Satirical verse: Eco warrior

Most important of your missions?

Cutting CO2 emissions;

Your ideals are exalted:

Global warming must be halted.

 

Therefore, in your eco war,

You will fly to Singapore

For a summit aiming to

Figure out just what to do.

 

Boeing really is the best:

It has wings and all the rest

And will, in no time at all,

Fly you anywhere long haul.

 

(Intercontinental jaunts

Are not what, quite frankly, daunts

Eco warriors of your kind,

With grave matters on their mind.)

 

On return (you’ve just touched down),

There are rallies round your town,

So you jump into your car;

Walk a mile? That’s way too far!

 

Then there’s* sit-ins, so that you

Can affix yourself with glue

To the pavement – with the call:

“Save the Planet, one and all!”

 

Thus you toil, without a break,

So you do deserve a steak,

Thick and juicy – just the thing:

All this iron boosts your zing.

 

You do feel some guilt (a smidge)

Looking at your walk-in fridge;

You would ditch it if you could,

But it serves a greater good.

 

As for your wood-burner – it

Looks so cosy when it’s lit,

So you settle with your plate,

Quite contented, feeling great,

 

For, with pride within your heart,

You believe you’ve played a part

In (though this might seem quite strange)

Just averting climate change.

 

*Well, it should be there are, of course, but if the lovely natives freely indulge in the likes of there’s us, so can an alien – particularly on the grounds of poetic scanning (though poetic may be stretching it a tad in verses such as this)

 

Copyright © Anna Nolan, 2019

 

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Verse: Tenth anniversary of my mountain rescue

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January, ten years back*:

I received a lot of flak

When I blundered – went astray –

On a cold and dismal day.

Gale was howling, snow was deep,

Skiddaw’s** slopes rose white and steep,

With its summit in the cloud,

But I planned my climb, unbowed,

Pining for the lofty top

With no image of a flop.

I was soon, despite the freeze,

Crawling on my hands and knees

Yet still sinking in the snow,

With my progress very slow;

But, regardless, on I pressed,

Which (in case you haven’t guessed)

Was a reckless thing to do

Given that nobody knew

Where I was on this vast slope;

Yep, I acted like a dope:

Upwards, higher, then – a fright:

The world went completely white!

There was nothing I could see:

Clouds, the ground, my boots, my knee …

Nothing, so I grabbed my phone

And, in panic-stricken tone,

Called the mountain rescue, who

Mobilised our Keswick crew;

Cockermouth went out as well,

And they got me off the fell,

Now, in darkness – ‘t was pitch-black***,

With no trace of any track.

I was, clearly, in those days

Still in my immortal phase;

Now, with whiteout on the tops,

I stay low and hit the shops!

 

*To be precise, on 29th January 2009

**Skiddaw is a mountain of over 3,000 feet which towers over my small town of Keswick

***I called the mountain rescue at about 3.30pm, and the Cockermouth team reached me at roughly 7pm, albeit in complete darkness because I had found myself on the eastern flank of Skiddaw and thus away from Keswick’s lights. My having ended up there was lucky because, if I had strayed onto its precipitous western slopes, I might not be here now. The rescuers managed to locate me because I was shining two torches (head and hand). Needless to say, I didn’t see anybody else on the fell that day – not that I could see much …

Humorous verse: Confessions of a walk leader

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With the time just whizzing past,

What I’ve had was – yes – a blast,

Clocking (fancy!) fifty walks

With my team, which simply rocks.

 

Roamers they are called, and they

Are first-class in every way:

They’re intrepid, brave and bold

Yet, with that, as good as gold.

 

We have rambled far and wide,

With me acting as a guide,

So it’s truly on my head

If the group’s not safely led.

 

But it was, I fear, a dud

When I dragged them through the mud,

Made them brave almighty gales,

Led them down precarious trails

 

And up rocks all glazed by frost,

Covered up when we got lost

(Aiming east but heading west,

Feigning nonchalance and zest) …

 

That, and stuff along those lines,

Fails to meet with gripes or whines;

As I’ve said, they are top drawer:

They keep coming back for more!